ext_158887 (
seta-suzume.livejournal.com) wrote in
31_days2007-12-26 02:08 pm
[Dec. 26, 2007][Original] Contradictions
Title: Contradictions
Day/Theme: Dec. 26, 2007 "Tell me, is pain to be cherished?"
Series: Original
Character/Pairing: Stephen, Atsuji
Rating: PG-13
Atsuji found himself being moved by two seemingly contradictory drives as his comrade, Stephen, slipped further into the darkness of his inescapable illness. There was a part of him that was terrified to be near Stephen, afraid that breathing the same air would strike him with this blight as well. He wanted to get away and stay away. The knowledge that in the past he had shook this man's hand, loaned him a shirt, sat beside him at the table, laughing over some minor incident- all these things tormented him. The specter of tuberculosis' white face and crimson blood hung heavy on his mind.
Yet at the same time he was horribly fascinated by what he saw and wanted, as Stephen's only colleague in Riverway, to sit beside the fading man and offer what comfort he could. He had been privileged that this was the first time in his life he had seen a man slowly dying before his very eyes. When Stephen had first been assigned to the cathedral, Atsuji would never have guessed that within several years the cheery young man would be pale, weak, and waning. The horror had worked on Stephen gradually and it seemed to Atsuji that there had been points where it had terrified Stephen as much as it terrified him.
He tried to make the sympathetic side win the internal struggle. He would pull up a chair to Stephen's bedside, where he rest for large parts of the day in an attempt to lessen some of the symptoms and build up a little strength. Atsuji would catch his colleague up on the things he had missed, or hold his hand, or simply sit, showing his support by being there. And Stephen always thanked him, smiling that smile that could never again be entirely carefree. There was always some aspect of sadness about it. At least Atsuji saw it that way. Stephen tried not to talk about the sad times, but he spoke less than before, and it was clear that these sorrowful times were on his mind. Humans really were full of contradictions.
Atsuji made him soup. Stephen had always loved to cook. He still wanted to, but he feared infecting others. It fascinated Atsuji- all the ways pain could shape one's character.
Day/Theme: Dec. 26, 2007 "Tell me, is pain to be cherished?"
Series: Original
Character/Pairing: Stephen, Atsuji
Rating: PG-13
Atsuji found himself being moved by two seemingly contradictory drives as his comrade, Stephen, slipped further into the darkness of his inescapable illness. There was a part of him that was terrified to be near Stephen, afraid that breathing the same air would strike him with this blight as well. He wanted to get away and stay away. The knowledge that in the past he had shook this man's hand, loaned him a shirt, sat beside him at the table, laughing over some minor incident- all these things tormented him. The specter of tuberculosis' white face and crimson blood hung heavy on his mind.
Yet at the same time he was horribly fascinated by what he saw and wanted, as Stephen's only colleague in Riverway, to sit beside the fading man and offer what comfort he could. He had been privileged that this was the first time in his life he had seen a man slowly dying before his very eyes. When Stephen had first been assigned to the cathedral, Atsuji would never have guessed that within several years the cheery young man would be pale, weak, and waning. The horror had worked on Stephen gradually and it seemed to Atsuji that there had been points where it had terrified Stephen as much as it terrified him.
He tried to make the sympathetic side win the internal struggle. He would pull up a chair to Stephen's bedside, where he rest for large parts of the day in an attempt to lessen some of the symptoms and build up a little strength. Atsuji would catch his colleague up on the things he had missed, or hold his hand, or simply sit, showing his support by being there. And Stephen always thanked him, smiling that smile that could never again be entirely carefree. There was always some aspect of sadness about it. At least Atsuji saw it that way. Stephen tried not to talk about the sad times, but he spoke less than before, and it was clear that these sorrowful times were on his mind. Humans really were full of contradictions.
Atsuji made him soup. Stephen had always loved to cook. He still wanted to, but he feared infecting others. It fascinated Atsuji- all the ways pain could shape one's character.
